Leaning with his back to the stone wall, arms crossed, Mikhail watched the procession of souls with only mild interest. This was his duty: to hold those who died until they were deemed worthy to enter Heaven’s gates. Caeli was a way-station of a sort. Most Grigori, those who hadn’t fallen, remained on Earth to watch over humanity. Mikhail didn’t come by his position by choice, but he preferred it to the earthly realm. Unlike Earth, Caeli was relatively quiet, peaceful.
Except lately.
Mikhail groaned and let his head fall back, eyes closing. Uriel and Andrew were at it again. Granted, he couldn’t really blame Andrew for arguing with Uriel. The archangel was normally the type to observe in silence, but once riled up, Uriel was a handful, a ruthless, callous angel who took great delight in
